Freedom versus expectation
by juliasejanus
Summary: After the battle, Harry finds himself alone and chooses to go muggle rather than live up to the expectations of the wizard's who neglected and abused him ONE SHOT


If life at school and with the Dursley's had done anything, it had prepared Harry to accept the concept of Murphy's Law and that what can go wrong, will go wrong. Losing his support, friends and all contact with the Wizarding world was something he should have expected, going from saviour to bogeyman with the turn of a hat. Job done, no longer the Chosen One, he was being ignored by all. It all started the day after the battle, Ron and his family had left, with the Weasley's offering Hermione a home but not him. Within an hour, McGonagall told him to vacate the school, as it was to be used as an overflow hospital and resettlement centre. Obviously he was not included as either a potential volunteer or as a person in need of medical assistance or resettlement. He arrived back at Grimmauld Place to find a very unwelcoming Andromeda Black, already in residence. The death of her husband had reinstated her to the family, with harsh words spoken in grief she refused him entry and had made it quite clear that he was not a suitable influence on her Grandson. With the door shut in his face, Harry ordered Kreature to look after Teddy and keep him informed of his Godson's progress and happiness. Frankly, Harry was worried as Widow Tonks reminded him nothing of her daughter and far too much of his own lovely aunt. She had been right, he was in no position to offer a home to Teddy until he got a roof over his head and her need was greater than his. The seventeen year old school drop out was technically a homeless waste of space.

He had no access to money, no friends offering a couch to sleep on and everyone was too busy dealing with their own problems to care about an orphan who attracted trouble. The good points were that he was young, had his health, could easily live without magic and a few nights living rough were no different than the last ten months. No one in the wizarding world would believe he desperately needed a job, considering most of them thought he was a pampered prince with a side line in delusional lying. In fact, considering how everyone had treated him as an afterthought now he had achieved his destiny, it was probably better to stand on his own two feet and get on with his life rather than expect anything from anybody. It was a relief that there were no guards, no expectations hanging over him and the fact he was finally free of that twice damned prophecy. One thing was for sure, he was definitely not going to ask for charity from his relatives. They had been forced into an impossible situation by Dumbledore and deserved to live in their idyll of completely normal, thank you very much, from now on.

Without change for a cab, bus or the tube; the dark haired young man with messy hair was glad he had secretly gone for eye corrective surgery after the Triwizard Tournament. As he walked towards the West End, he binned his distinctive, but useless black spectacles. He now needed to get a job.

The Brigadier Gerrard was a popular pub in Soho with the sex workers, gangsters, transvestites, gay men and lesbians. Not the type of place tourists hung out. The want ad for an assistant barman in the window drew in Harry.

The barman looked at the kid and smiled, guessing the dark haired good looking petite teenager was underage, obviously piss poor and freshly arrived in the capital, probably after getting kicked out for not being straight, considering the pub's reputation.

Harry had got a speech worked out without sounding desperate or a pushover, but the barman spoke first, in soft understanding tones.

"Look, sugar. Come back when you're 18, better still when your 21 considering the crap that goes down here. The pigs come in regular and Jojo doesn't want to loose her licence. I know Shifty Mike on 55 Old Compton Street, fifth floor flat 5G, is looking for an assistant, but he might take you on as a model as well, which pays much better. He'll pay you cash in hand, get you digs sorted as he knows all the local landlords. Steer clear of the clubs around here as the wise guys in charge will see you as a meal ticket, by which I mean get you hooked on crack and then you'd be trapped selling your booty to pay them off. If you're straight, religious or body conscious, join the army as Mike specialises in porno photos."

The underage teenager smiled and shook his head, "Army? No way. Had enough of taking orders from the arseholes at school. Thanks for the tip. I'm happy to wash up, empty bins or clean toilets as I did enough of that at home and I doubt I'll get the verbal dressing down to go with it, if I'm getting paid. Cheers, I might pop in for a drink when I reach 18, see you then."

…

Harry had a copy of his birth certificate, but no other ID. No NHS number, no National Insurance Number, no driving licence, no passport and no normal bank account. God, he hated the word muggle. Shifty Mike looked him over. "Seventeen, dropped out of an alternative private school. My cousin went to one of those, now lives in Canada with his wife and 2 and a bit kids; he was a proper stuck up git. You look alright, considering." Mike had been bullied mercilessly for being a bastard and then being queer, on the few occasions his mother been invited back into the family fold after her disgraceful behaviour. His mum, God bless her soul, had been well rid of that bunch of tossers.

Harry wondered if his sort of family were wizards or he was a squib, but with the no reaction on his name, so he guessed otherwise. There were plenty of other weird and wonderful private schools out there. "I've been moving around constantly since last August, when my Aunt and Uncle kicked me out. Been backpacking with pals; but I've run out of dosh and all my friends have evaporated."

The photographer drily chuckled and nodded with empathy, "Happens to most of us, when we come out or hit the skids. You'll make plenty of new friends here. So, short of funds, does that mean you'll do some under the counter work. Unless you're camera shy and won't strip? As an assistant you'll still see a lot of bare flesh around here. I'm not Mr. Fashion or a family photographer."

Harry had always thought of himself as a bit ugly. No one seriously liked him for his looks or personality, just the fame and his destiny. He shrugged and put down his small backpack and started to pull off his clothes. "I have no idea what to do, so please tell me to get dressed if I'm hideously repulsive."

Mikey set up his digital camera, to do a few record shots and get the kid a portfolio started. Off came the threadbare, ill-fitting clothes to reveal a toned body on the slim side, covered in scrapes, bruises and a couple of deep undressed gashes. "Been in the wars I see." The photographer moved his small bathroom to get his first aid kit. "Lie down and relax. I'll tend your wounds. Leave cuts like that to fester and you'll get serious infection and some awful scars as well. I understand wanting to steer clear of social services, you either get sent back to the bastards who did the beating up in the first place or get put in a group home and I found out the hard way that was worse."

…

September 1st, and Hermione was upset that Ron had taken an internship with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement rather than finish school. Not that she had seen him since she returned from Australia. Last night she had listen to Ginny being a bitch, she had expected her game of hard to get to ensure her engagement to her ex-boyfriend. Only it had the opposite effect. Harry had not been heard nor seen in months. Pig and Errol had refused Hermione's letters yesterday, she could only hope the school owls were willing. She had been gone for three months and Ron had forgotten or been forbidden to contact his best friend. She had only had two letters in that time from her supposed boyfriend. He was proving to be a very inattentive and selfish boyfriend. She sat on her own the whole journey, no longer a prefect, not head girl and it seemed Harry was a trainee Auror like Ron. She put pen to paper to write to her boyfriend to ask.

The opening feast was strange, as the great hall still bore the scars of war. The ceiling no longer enchanted. School had contracted as a single new accommodation blocks housed the students and teachers, with large dormitories separated by gender and year, only with smaller sub sections for the houses. The main castle housing the infirmary, great hall, kitchens and school rooms. Over 50% of the school was still in ruins. The new acting headmaster had been appointed by the ICW, and as an American was a hard line separatist. Muggle studies was again compulsory, as most wizard's idea of integration a complete joke.

Luna Lovegood sat beside Hermione as desert was served. "Harry's not returned?"

"No." said Hermione sounding hurt and betrayed.

"Oh, Kingsley asked after him with me and Neville." Luna was a bit worried as Harry had inherited two seats on the Wizengamot, in May he had asked Neville to be his proxy as the muggle raised wizard had no interest in politics and his friend had been raised to his responsibilities. The Order Old Guard was not happy about that. Neville has siding with the ICW, so was not pro Ministry nor pro Dumbledore. Not that many people were now, not after Rita Skeeter's book made the best seller lists.

"Looking for a new poster boy." Hermione said under her breath as she had seen Ron's visage used in recruitment posters.

Luna paused from selecting her sweet and let the cat out of the bag, "Skeeter's book on Harry is due for publication tomorrow. I got my hands on an advance copy and well, its brutal. Will make anyone pro muggle or pro Dumbledore reconsider their position."

"What has that bitch lied about?"

Luna ate a glass of strawberry ice cream and smiled dreamily, she would miss her friends this year as she knew Ginny was too busy with her schemes and Hermione only tolerated her. "Lies? No; the plain, honest truth is much harsher. You knew Harry grew up starved, beaten, derided, living in the cupboard under the stairs; abused and neglected by his muggle relatives. Skeeter spoke to Arabella Figg, its all in black and white how the great Boy-who-Lived was treated like a house elf on Dumbledore's orders, kept there alone and unloved with abusive muggles. The headmaster wanted Harry to willingly walk to his death, to sacrifice himself. The fact none of you had any clues to the Horcruxes or any training to deal with the vilest of soul magic, the lack of backing from the Order, Ron's betrayal, the shambles at the end, as children fought for freedom as the adults hid. Then the fact Harry has disappeared back into the muggle world. Unless, he breaks the Statute of Secrecy, which is unlikely considering his full court room trial at 15, he's unlikely to turn up any time soon. Why would he? Goblin's have locked down his vaults, Andromeda lives at Grimmauld Place after barring him entry, Molly Weasley took her daughter's side in not offering sanctuary to the Chosen One and Kingsley wants him as Ministry poster boy for his new administration. No, Harry has found freedom from deceit and manipulation. So can you, just consider that in Australia you barely thought about Ron and now you can't live without him again." Luna then got up and left the Great Hall, skipping to the outer courtyard to talk with the Grey Lady.


End file.
